Winter Guide 2013: Slippery Slope

A brandy-fueled test slide on the newfangled sleds.

As a young lad coming of age in my
Fortress of Solitude on the steep slopes of Cooper Mountain, there was
no thrill greater than snowfall. The streets and the hilly local vacant
lot were instantly transformed into a sledding range. Days and nights
were spent crafting the perfect tracks down the hill. The
snowplow-deficient Beaverton city government let us squeeze every minute
of enjoyment out of the short-lived snow.

The
casual sport of sledding has changed since those days. Cheap, plastic
saucer sleds are still easily available, as are the two-person canoes.
But so are “inner tubes” that have no distinguishable tubes. There are
rolled-up plastic “carpet sleds” in lieu of toboggans. Flat foam pads
with grips galore. Not even sporting goods stores commonly offer
old-fashioned sleds with metal runners.

So just how did these
nu-sleds compare with the plastic saucers of my youth? I went to Mount
Hood with whatever I could find at the local Fred Meyer: a saucer, a
spade-shaped inner tube, a carpet sled, a flat foam generi-sled, a
garbage bag and a flask of brandy. These were the results.

Saucer Sled

(“Flying Saucer,” Flexible Flyer, $10.99)

The ride: A disc shaped like a
dinner plate, the saucer sled is a memorable throwback to the sledding
of yesteryear. It was modeled after the trash-can lids used by countless
improvisational sledders in the past. The saucer carves shallow,
half-moon tracks through the snow, crafting paths also usable by other
types of sleds. The design also allows the sledder to stay on without
holding on to grips. The hands are free to be used as an e-brake.

Maneuverability: 8/10

Speed: 5/10

Inner-Tube Sled

(“Big Air,” Flexible Flyer, $21.99)

The ride: This is not your daddy’s inner tube, son.
It’s an inflatable, spade-shaped device of massive speed. The speed
might be due to the running start that the sled encourages—the inflated
padding softens the blow as one leaps onto it—but it also seems to glide
effortlessly over powder. The tracks left behind are not conducive to
other sleds, not that this one needs to go on any pre-existing track.
There are two drawbacks, however: (1) You must have both hands on the
grips at all times to stay on and (2) snow gets in your knickers if you
wear a short jacket.

Maneuverability: 3/10

Speed: 9/10

Foam Sled

(“Snow Skimmer,” Flexible Flyer, $6.99)

The ride: Bearing a similar shape to the
aforementioned tube, this sled nearly matched its speed. Indeed, it
bears nearly the same strengths and weaknesses of the tube sled at a
fraction of the price. The most significant difference lies in the lack
of cushioning. Running starts are a bit harder on the sternum with this
ride, which made my flask of brandy very important to the process. The
flat bottom works best on existing sled tracks.

Maneuverability: 3/10

Speed: 7/10

Garbage Bag

(Fred Meyer, about 25 cents)

The ride: The garbage bag, the everyman’s skid, was
first employed on a long-ago snowy day when an ill-prepared,
foul-mouthed child said, “Fuck it, I wanna speed down this hill.” All
that’s required is a standard-issue plastic garbage bag. (Note: Be
shorter than 6 feet tall, please.) Step inside the bag, lie down and
pull the bag up around you—any exposed clothing is going to slow you
down. A pre-existing track is required, especially since a running start
is nigh on impossible. The whole thing almost functions, but in reality
garbage bags should be employed only in last-resort or drunken-bet
situations. Booze will increase the comfort of the ride. Being an actual
child also helps, if you’re not drunk. WW nonetheless does not recommend that small children or drunk people play inside of plastic bags.

Maneuverability: 3/10

Speed: 1/10

Carpet Sled

(“Flying Carpet,” Flexible Flyer, $5.99)

The ride: This was the most baffling new sled I
encountered. While it rolls up into a wonderfully compact and portable
shape, it doesn’t unroll quite as easily. The Herculean feat of keeping
the sled unrolled long enough to mount it killed any chance at starting a
hill run with any forward momentum. My efforts on the sled left the
tracks of a frustrated tall man trying to sled down a hill on an
uncomfortable, narrow strip of plastic. Making turns was out of the
question, as any change of direction ended with me falling off the
slow-moving sled.